Grandmother explained about the 'phone calling her back. "And I left the receiver hanging, I came so quickly," she added laughingly. "I guess I'll go back now and hang it up."
"Then I'll show Mary Jane around myself," said Grandfather firmly. "She's more important than work, so there!" He set her down beside him, took her hand snugly in his own (and it feels pretty good to have somebody hold your hand when everything is strange, you know that yourself), and they started off.
First they went into the barn where they saw Mrs. Pig, grunting still, but standing very meekly in her own corner; and eleven little pigs that grunted such cunning, squeaky little grunts. Mary Jane wasn't afraid of them for one minute. They weren't dirty as Mary Jane supposed pigs always were, not a bit dirty; they were tidy and neat and their little round sides shone like silk.
"Oh, I like them, Grandfather!" she exclaimed. "Could I play with them someday?"
"I thought you didn't like pigs," teased Grandfather.
"Oh, but these aren't pigs," corrected Mary Jane; "these are piggies; nice piggies like in my painting book. I like them."
"I don't know about playing with them," laughed Grandfather; "we'll have to see. But I'll tell you what you may do; when we're through looking all over the place, you may come back here with me and feed them. Would you like that?"
Would she? Mary Jane clapped her hands and wanted to insist on feeding them right that very minute; only, just in time, she remembered that she wasn't to tease. So she slipped her hand back into Grandfather's big one and they went on with their walk.
Next they saw Brindle Bess, but Mary Jane didn't like her as well as the little pigs. She switched her tail and looked around at Mary Jane so pointedly that Mary Jane was really relieved when Grandfather slipped around and opened the door and let her wander out to pasture.
"She's an awful big cow, isn't she, Grandfather?" said Mary Jane, as the cow ambled off.